What Would I Give? Everything I Have
by kawherp
Summary: This is an alternate universe set in modern times and without any super soldiers. Bucky was turned into a merman against his will; Steve thinks he died... until they meet on a beach. Bucky is lonely, starving, and grieving for the life he lost. Steve is determined, optimistic, and hell-bent on finding Bucky again. Sound familiar?
1. An Idiot's Journey

Full summary:

This is an alternate universe set in modern times and without any super soldiers. Bucky was lost as sea in a navy accident. He left his meager estate to his best friend Steve. Steve used that to fund the surgery that fixed his severely curved spine, allowing him to work out and become healthy for the first time in his life. He is grieving for Bucky as he tries to move forward with his life. In a chance meeting, he encounters a merman off shore that turns out to be Bucky, or what is left of him.

Bucky is lonely, starving, and grieving for the life he lost. Steve is determined, optimistic, and hell-bent on finding Bucky again. Sound familiar?

* * *

Inspired by and sequel to _What Would I Give_ by MostFacinorous on AO3. Written with MF's permission.

I can't explain exactly what grabbed me about this alternate universe Bucky and Steve, but it did, and it didn't let go. Be aware, that original story contains a mature (graphic) depiction of their relationship. I don't personally much care to read or write that level of detail in sex scenes, but the character interaction made skimming those parts and reading the rest well worth my time. (I have nothing against detailed smut, mind you, it's just not my thing.) I asked about a sequel and was given permission to write it myself.

And then my head exploded with even more ideas.

I have managed to get the characters to a point where I am (for now at least) happy to leave them where they are. I have a much longer story line sketched out, but it doesn't have to be told so much that my muse is hauling me away from the other stories I'm working on. Steve and Bucky have hope and plans for making their way forward. They have a lot of issues to work out and a lot of healing to do, but they're on the right track. I'm okay leaving them here, firmly on the path to a happily ever after. And since they're celebrating Christmas, I figured I may as well get this out there for the rest of you to enjoy. It's firmly planted in PG-13 land with far more implied than outright stated. You can fill in the blanks as you wish. If the muse ever insists I write more, I'll add it on to what's here.

* * *

"I'm an idiot," Steve though to himself as he adjusted the huge duffel slung over one shoulder, grabbed the handle of the other bag again, and trudged along the nearly-empty beach. He'd come here straight from the airport without even bothering to stop at a hotel or find a restaurant. The meal on the plane had been typical airline fare and was really best forgotten. The beaches in Rio seemed to be endless. All he had to guide him was a fleeting trace of a shared memory. An image of a canoe shaped rock not far from the freeway was what he was searching for. He'd let himself believe it would be easy to find. But now, after a half hour of trudging along the beach he had been sure was the right one, he was starting to lose faith. His fatigue and increasing hunger did nothing to help his mood.

A rational person would have stayed home. Where Bucky was concerned, he was clearly anything but rational. Five years of grief followed by a handful of short visits had forever banished rational from his vocabulary. The first visit had been a one-sided conversation, establishing that Bucky was not dead, but had been transformed into a merman against his will. The second visit had occurred in the frigid fall waters off the rocky coast of Maine. Steve had risked hypothermia to spend time in the water with Bucky and ended up scaring his friend away when he'd suggested Bucky join him on shore. A peace offering of fish and a heartfelt apology lead to plans for a picnic by the sea… where Bucky had revealed the terrible truth: his voice was a deadly weapon, luring any human to hear it to their death as they were driven mad by lust, drowning in their attempts to satisfy a most primal urge. Bucky had chosen to isolate himself completely, first from the merpeople who had lured him to dive overboard, then from the human race he had once been a part of.

A chance meeting with Steve had changed that. After five years of grieving, he'd been willing to do anything to spend time with Bucky. It was his panic at Bucky's departure for warmer waters that finally prompted Bucky to speak. Unlike the others, Steve had heard his voice and was still alive. Bucky had made love to him in the cave he called home, then taken Steve back to shore before hypothermia set in. The next evening, they'd hastily agreed to have Steve meet him in Rio de Janeiro sometime over the Christmas holiday, assuming Steve could get time off of work and find his way to the meeting place. There had been no time to plan it better. Bucky had to head to warmer waters if he were to find enough food to survive the next few months.

And so Steve had planned and dreamed and imagined his way through fall and early winter, only to find himself trudging along an endless beach in a different hemisphere, lugging nearly a hundred pounds of gear, hoping and praying that he'd be lucky enough to find the rock before it was too dark to see.

Exhausted, disheartened, and questioning his sanity, he finally let the bags fall to the sand and sank to his knees in the fading light. The only comfort was that he was alone where no one could see him. He doggedly ignored the growing knot in his gut that reminded him that being alone on a deserted beach in a foreign country was not the smartest thing he'd done. His two-piece rash guard was black, letting him blend with the coming night. Sand had gotten into his shoes and had become increasingly irritating to the tender skin of his feet.

He choked on a sob. So much of his energy had been devoted to getting here he hadn't really thought about what he'd do if he didn't immediately find Bucky. He had to keep moving. Surely the stupid rock was just ahead. If he could just keep walking, he'd find it.

A familiar whistle broke the silence and he jerked his head up, searching the waters off shore. "Bucky?" he called softly, wondering if he'd truly lost his mind.

The melodic chip he got in reply sent him running into the surf, his bags forgotten.

Strong arms caught him around the waist as the sandy bottom suddenly dropped away, leaving him thrashing for a moment before he relaxed and let Bucky hold him at the surface. Steve threw his arms around Bucky's neck, not bothering to hide his tears. "You're here. You're really here."

Bucky just held him close and chirped at him again in a way Steve knew indicated amusement.

"Can you really blame me for questioning my sanity a few times?"

Bucky smiled and pushed his long hair out of his eyes, waiting to see what Steve wanted to do. He motioned to the shore where the two duffel bags lay.

"I came straight from the airport. The cave you told me about, is it close?" When Bucky nodded, Steve struck out for shore. "Good. Can you take these there and come back for me? There is stuff inside that's only waterproof to a depth of fifteen feet or so. Is that going to be a problem? If so, we'll need to find a different place to stash it."

With a single pump of his tail, Bucky overtook him and clasped Steve's hand, sending him an image of a comfortable hotel room.

Steve laughed and planted a kiss on Bucky's lips before shaking his head. "I came to see you, not a hotel room. I'm staying with you, Punk. That's one reason why I have so much gear. I have almost two full weeks of vacation to burn and I intend to spend most of that time in your arms. I'll head to the local market in the mornings and pick up food for you so you can take a break, too. This is our vacation and I intend to make the most of it. When I have to go home, you'll be glad to be rid of me."

Bucky shook his head, sending strong feelings of disagreement through their connection.

Steve just laughed. "We'll see what you say in two weeks."

Bucky just rolled his eyes and pointed to the duffel bags.

"You're just as bossy as ever, aren't you?" Steve teased as he swam backwards for a few strokes, eyes on Bucky the whole time as he got closer to shore.

Bucky just thrashed his tail impatiently as he tapped his wrist with the finger of his other hand, pointing to a watch he no longer wore.

The sound of voices made them both freeze before Bucky surged forward to grab his hand. Steve sent an image to Bucky of him running up to shore, grabbing the bags, then darting back into the ocean in time for Bucky to tow Steve and his gear into open waters. Bucky hesitated just a moment, then nodded, pushing Steve in front of him until he was nearly in danger of beaching himself on the shore.

Steve ran for his bags, ignoring the shouts, and dragged them back into the surf, trusting Bucky to be there.

"Breathe," Bucky ordered and Steve obeyed, clasping his Bucky's forearm with his hand and letting himself get pulled under.

There was the sensation of moving quickly as Bucky's powerful tail moved them far off shore. Finally, his head broke the surface and he gulped for air as quietly as he could while he forced himself to tread water.

"Relax, catch your breath," Bucky whispered in his ear as he held Steve from behind.

Steve nodded and let his legs grow still, trusting Bucky to hold him. The sound of Bucky's voice sent a rush of desire through him and he turned in Bucky's arms, kissing him with as much passion as he could manage while still catching his breath. He wrapped his legs around Bucky's waist.

"I was hoping to at least make it inside first," Steve teased.

Bucky's laughter was little more than a huff of air across his ear, but it sent joy surging through him to hear it.

"I even brought supplies. No lamp oil this time."

That got him a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, trust me, I brought enough. All my camping gear is in the other bag."

Bucky sent a surge of amusement and laugher through their connection, then motioned for Steve to wait where he was. When he nodded that he was able to tread water quietly and without a mindless drive to follow Bucky, the merman disappeared under the surface, taking Steve's bags with him.

Steve watched the shore warily as he waited, but there was no sign they were being followed. His stomach rumbled in hunger and for a moment, he questioned his decision to dash down here without even stopping for food. He could have brought fish for Bucky, too. He'd been too afraid he wouldn't find him. Discarding uneaten fish would have been too painful, a reminder of his doubts. No, he'd been right to risk hunger, he decided.

A touch on his foot made him flinch and tense up, at least until the hands traced a path up to where his legs joined. Two could play that game. As Bucky's head broke the surface, Steve wrapped his legs around Bucky and let his own hands do some exploring, "Take me home, Buck."

* * *

"You're thinner," Steve observed as Bucky lit the small lamp he had stored on a ledge. Bucky's ribs were too visible and it worried him. Unlike his cave back north, there were no books here. Steve wondered how Bucky coped with the monotony of survival.

Bucky shrugged, waving off the concern as he hauled himself up onto the rocky shelf where Steve was sitting. "Long trip."

"Do you have any idea were the fish markets are? I'll get you some food tomorrow morning, first thing."

Bucky nodded, well aware of the effect even two words had on Steve, and looked away.

"What is it? You having second thoughts about us?" Steve asked, reaching out for Bucky's hand as he stretched out in the seaweed bed.

"You deserve better than this," Bucky said softly, his face hidden behind a curtain of damp hair.

"So do you. But I'll take this over thinking you were dead. I brought a few things for you that should make this easier for both of us. But it's only Christmas Eve and if you don't get over here and make love to me right now, I'm going to make sure you get nothing but coal in your stocking." Steve threw a significant glance at Bucky's silver tail and grinned. "I'm not sure what you'd even do with that much coal."

"Jerk," Bucky whispered and finally let Steve pull him down to lie beside him.


	2. Christmas day

When Steve woke, Bucky was gone. Only the faintest light managed to penetrate a small crevice in the rocks overhead. The lamp had long since been blown out to conserve the precious fuel. Steve wasn't worried. Bucky had already told him he might wake alone. He knew Bucky needed to keep his body wet, and he was probably out hunting, stretching muscles that had gone unused during what had been a short night of sleep.

Steve smiled to himself at the memories as he sat up carefully, sore and tired from the prior night's exertions. Christmas morning. He had never imagined this was how he'd spend the holiday, but it was where he most wanted to be. With Bucky gone, it was a good time to get out some of his supplies.

Carefully, he stood up and made his way along the narrow ledge to open the bag closest to him. As he bent forward, he hit his head on an overhang that had been hidden in the shadows. Jerking back out of reflex, he lost his balance and tumbled head first into the water.

Sputtering, he righted himself and tried to haul his tired body back onto the ledge. The tide was low and despite several attempts, Steve was unable to find purchase on the slippery rocks. Nor did he have the strength to surge out of the water and leap to the ledge as Bucky did so easily, propelled by a powerful tail. At least he had his rash suit on so he'd stay warm, he thought to himself as he leaned his bleeding head on his arms while holding on to the rocky overhang. Hopefully, Bucky would return soon and rescue him.

* * *

"Can't leave you for a minute, can I?" Bucky said behind him some time later.

Steve roused from his stupor, desire surging through him despite the ache in his arms. "Warned you last night you'd be glad to be rid of me," he mumbled, letting go of the rocks as he sank with relief into Bucky's firm grip.

"What happened?"

"Gravity."

Bucky blew a note of amusement and moved so Steve was sitting on his shoulder. Effortlessly, he pumped his tail and lifted Steve up, holding him steady so he could crawl onto the widest part of the ledge. Steve collapsed into the bed of seaweed, moving back against the cave wall so Bucky could join him.

Bucky sank low in the water for a moment, then surged up with a powerful thrust of his tail to land easily beside Steve. He rolled over and stretched out beside his human friend.

"Show off."

Bucky just rolled his eyes and motioned for Steve to go back to sleep.

"Need help with something first," Steve mumbled, pulling Bucky closer so he could press his whole body against him. "You know the effect you have on me."

Bucky used the contact to send another image of a cozy hotel room. Concern surged through their connection.

"Nope. Not getting rid of me so easily. Now stop stalling and take care of me so I can get some sleep." Steve demanded, nuzzling and kissing Bucky's throat and gills, taking extra care to be gentle with the delicate tissues.

Bucky moaned and put a hand on the back of Steve's head, holding him where he was.

"Like that, do you?"

That earned him a low-pitched laugh.

"I think I'm going to have a lot of fun over the next few days as I explore this new body of yours," Steve said softly between kisses.

Bucky sent him a feeling of strong pleasure mixed with amusement and resignation to his fate as Steve's object of exploration.

* * *

When he woke, Bucky was brooding. Nothing Steve said as he opened and consumed a military style field ration seemed to pull his friend out of his mood. Bucky just stayed silent as he watched Steve eat, then sent a tentative image of a hotel room again, followed by images of fancy restaurants and buffets of food.

Steve jerked back angrily. "I thought you wanted me here."

"I do!" Bucky said, hurt plain in his eyes.

"Then why do you keep trying to get me to go to a hotel? If I'm cramping your style, just say so. Don't try to package it as concern if you really don't want me around twenty-four seven."

"It's not like that!"

"Then what is it like? Talk to me! Yell at me. Just do something so I understand." Steve got up and moved so he was sitting on Bucky's lap, facing him. "Am I hurting you, sitting on you like this?" he asked softly.

Bucky shook his head but didn't meet his eyes. Instead, he kept his chin lowered so his damp hair hid his face.

Steve clasped his hand. "Please, Buck."

Defeated, Bucky dropped his head to rest on Steve's shoulder and opened the connection between them. Steve was flooded with soul-crushing loneliness and despair, watching from afar as the humans on shore went about their busy lives, laughing and talking together. He saw couples walking hand in hand on the beach, families playing in the sand, Steve coming to visit him. But always, when the sun went down, he was alone, cut off from humanity and the life had had once enjoyed. Seeing Steve made him feel alive again, but when Steve returned to land, the loss was sharp. In some ways, it hurt more to have him visit and leave, since it only reminded him of what he had lost. At least the five years of solitude had the blessings of mindless boredom and a focus on survival. When Steve went home, Bucky wasn't sure how he'd endure the loneliness. That generated a new wave of feeling: shame and embarrassment at his own weakness, dread about the end of Steve's visit, and guilt that he was keeping Steve from living his own life.

"Oh, Buck," Steve whispered, wrapping his arms around his friend to pull him even closer. "The last few months have been awful for me, too. But we can make better plans now. Before, you were under a deadline to get somewhere warm. It's never going to be that bad again. I promise. Help me move those bags up away from the edge and I'll show you what I brought," Steve said as he got up and moved out of Bucky's way. Bucky slipped back into the water and grabbed the bags on at a time, handing them up to Steve.

He settled with his back to the cave wall with the two duffel bags beside him and lit the lantern that was nearby. He motioned and Bucky finally shrugged and planted himself next to Steve, scooting back so he was sitting beside him.

"Close your eyes," Steve said as he opened the bag and rummaged around.

Bucky rolled his eyes, but finally complied. Steve shoved a water-logged Santa cap on Bucky's head after donning his own. "Merry Christmas."

"Seriously?" Bucky grumbled in a low voice.

"Smile and be quiet. You can have me as a present later."

Bucky whistled sarcastically at him, but otherwise held his tongue.

"Okay, I didn't wrap anything because soggy wrapping paper didn't seem festive. But I have several things. If you don't want any of it, or don't think it will be useful, no problem. I promise I won't be offended. We never had much of a chance to talk about you could use, and I know you don't want to be lugging a lot of gear thousands of miles. So you have to promise me you'll tell me if you want me to take anything back and replace it with something I didn't think of. Deal?"

That got him a wary nod.

"Here," Steve said, handing him a diving watch. "It might make it easier to plan when and where to meet me if you have this. I get the impression you've lost track of the calendar a bit. You mentioned last night you've been watching the beaches for me for several weeks now."

Bucky nodded, taking the watch with shaking hands and immediately put it on his wrist.

"I set it for the time back home, just so you know. We can change it to local time if you want."

Bucky shook his head firmly, examining the dial and gently tracing the date with one clawed finger. It brought a lump to Steve's throat to see how much it meant to his friend. He hoped that his other surprises were as well received.

"Okay, the next item on the list was a bit of a gamble. But you told me how hard it was to hunt, so I got to thinking how I could help with that." Steve handed over a small, fine mesh net and a loop with a telescoping handle that Bucky could attach to the net. "There are extra nets in this bag in case they rip," he added as he passed Bucky the snorkeling bag. "I don't know if the handle will help or not. It might be worth a try, at least. I figured between the waist and shoulder strap, you can find a way to carry them without too much drag. The carabiners are from a manufacturer specializing in marine gear, so they should last you a long time without rusting even though they're made of steel.

Bucky pulled him into a hug then, sending Steve a wave of gratitude before strapping the bag around his waist and looping the second strap over shoulder and across his torso. He hooked the handle beneath one strap, clipped it to one of the dozen or so carabiners that were attached to the waist and shoulder straps, and motioned to Steve that he'd be back in a bit, raising his eyebrow to make sure Steve was okay waiting.

"Go ahead," he said, smiling. "But you might want to leave the hat here so you don't scare your dinner.

Bucky rolled his eyes, tossed his hat into Steve's lap, and flung himself off the ledge. With a flash of silver scales, he was gone.

Pleased at Bucky's reaction, Steve retrieved the thick wool blanket he'd packed along with two new camping pads. Once the pads were inflated and in place under the seaweed, he blew out the lamp, wrapped himself in the blanket, and settled down to nap while he waited for Bucky to return. Even if hunting were still a struggle, he knew Bucky felt cared about, which was doubly important now that he knew just how lonely Bucky had been feeling.

* * *

Steve woke when Bucky put a cold, wet arm around him. Opening his eyes, he saw that Bucky was positively glowing with excitement, head propped on one elbow as he watched Steve. Steve held out his hand and Bucky sent him images of how he'd chased a school of fish into a tight ball, then scooped through them with the net, filling it with a single pass. By twisting the net around, he was able to close the net until he reached the surface, then gorge himself on his catch, feeling truly full for first time in weeks.

Steve brushed the tears away from his eyes and hugged Bucky hard. "I'm glad, Buck. I won't worry so much about you getting enough to eat now. Since you're full, do you think you can sit still long enough to see the rest of what I brought?"

"There's more?" Bucky was incredulous. He lay down flat, rolling onto his back as he moved. "You even brought padding for the rocks. You need to be careful with how much you spend. The plane ticket alone was a small fortune."

"Don't worry about it. I'm saving on hotel costs. The camping pads can stay here. I'll bring you others when you come back up north. The blanket is mainly for me, but I'm leaving it here for you. It will make a nice pillow, at least. But I'm eager to see what you think of this next item," Steve said, grinning in the dim light as he sat up and reached for the bag nearest him. "It's going to be really handy in the next few minutes, especially if you keep talking." With that, Steve pulled out a small LED lamp and turned it on. The light was small but quite bright. In the small space of the cave, it now looked like mid-day.

Bucky smiled sadly. "I like it, but when the battery dies, it's trash."

Steve just grinned and pulled out a small rectangular pad. "That's why you now have a solar charger that works with the battery in the lamp. I figure you can leave the lamp here when you head north. It's no big deal to get you a second one for back home. The only drawback is that charging can be a bit slow. You'll need to find somewhere to set them out in the sun for a few hours where no one will find them."

"That's easy. There are lots of small islands around here that tourists can't get to 'cause they're too rocky." He looked at Steve, who was panting hard now and doing his best to hold on to his remaining control. Bucky smiled and rolled his eyes, no longer feeling guilty about the affect his voice had on Steve. He watched as Steve looked at him in bright light for the first time.

Steve reached out to touch Bucky's delicate fins, stroking them carefully as they shimmered in the light. "You're so gorgeous, Buck. Someday, you have to let me draw you."

"Okay. Now c'mere."

* * *

"I'm really glad you're here, Steve," Bucky said as he ran his hands down Steve's back. Steve was sprawled on him like a warm blanket, his two-piece rash guard temporarily discarded on the cave floor.

"Me, too. I'm never going to get tired of hearing your voice. I don't care about the magic part. It's just that after five years…" Steve's voice trailed off, the lump in his throat making speech impossible.

"I know. I've missed you, too. Is there anything you wanted to do while you're here? Neither of us got to travel much, before. Rio has a lot to offer."

"I need to go ashore long enough today to stock up on drinks. I've already burned though the water I brought with me from the airport. Distilling enough seawater to keep me going will take too much time. But I brought snorkeling gear. I was hoping you knew of some places far enough off shore that we could make a day trip out of it without being in danger of being seen. I can take some of the food I brought with me if it's easier. But I've got some waterproof matches… if you can catch enough for both of us, surely there's a beach with enough driftwood for a small fire I can cook on."

"Not into raw fish?" Bucky teased before kissing the top of Steve's head. "You don't know what you're missing."

Steve laughed, filled with contentment that they could joke about such things without risking hurt feelings. "I'll take your word for it. Can we go? Is there anywhere that's safe for us to explore?"

"Yeah, I know a few places, actually. Even found a few shipwrecks over the years that I'm not sure others have discovered. The currents can be tricky. Don't worry, though. I'll keep you safe."

"Never doubted it. You always did." Steve sighed. "I just want to stay here forever."

Bucky squeezed him tighter for a moment, but didn't otherwise acknowledge the sentiment. "It's too bad you don't have scuba gear."

"I thought about, started researching it even. But the more I looked into it, the more I realized it wouldn't work. Between the mandatory buddy systems and dive logs, there would be too many questions. I won't put you in danger like that. I just need to learn to hold my breath longer."

"You do that. Plus, I can go down while you stay at the surface, then come show you what I saw. It will keep you from wearing yourself out as fast."

"Okay. But you need to open that connection the next time we make love. You agreed we needed to try that and you seem to have forgotten."

"I didn't forget," Bucky said, his voice low and melodic. "Just didn't want to overwhelm you."

Steve lifted his head off of Bucky's chest and looked him in the eye. "I dare you to try."

"Challenge accepted," Bucky rumbled as he rolled them both over, pinning Steve beneath his own body. "Name the time and place."

"Here. Now." Further words were impossible as Bucky kept his promise. Steve wept at the power of the emotions flooding them both. Words weren't necessary in the face of the raw devotion and love flowing between them. They lost track of who was feeling what, joining on a level neither imagined was possible, before falling into a deep sleep, still tangled in each other's arms.

* * *

Steve blushed a bit as he went into the convenience store that was open. It was nearly ten in the evening, but Copacabana beach was full of activity. He felt out extremely of place dressed in his two-piece rash suit and boat shoes, but he tried to ignore that and act like he belonged there.

He put a case of water on his shoulder, bought two more individual bottles, paid the clerk with money that looked like it came of out of a board game, and headed back to the shore. Once outside, he guzzled one of the individual water bottles down, then chased it with the other before discarding the empty containers in a nearby recycling bin. He kept to the sidewalk until the crowds thinned, then turned and headed directly to the surf, hoping his odd behavior would be overlooked by people who had more interesting things to do than observe the movements of one oddly dressed man a carrying a case of bottled water on his shoulder.

A piercing two-toned whistle reached him and he smiled, picking up the pace a bit to reach the water's edge. Once the water reached his knees, Steve stretched out in the surf, pushing the case of water ahead of him, and started swimming to where Bucky was waiting.

He put his arms around Bucky's neck and held on as Bucky simultaneously pushed the case of water and towed Steve into deeper water.

"Everything go okay?"

"Yeah. Just felt weird being around that many people for some reason."

Bucky huffed a laugh. "I'll be right back. Are you okay waiting?" He paused, watching Steve carefully.

Steve paused, evaluating how he was feeling, then nodded. "Maybe I'm building a tolerance. Go on. Just hurry, Christmas day is nearly over and you still haven't let me give you the rest of your stuff.

He could tell Bucky wanted to say more, but didn't want to risk affecting Steve with his voice. "Just go already! You can argue with me when you get back," Steve said, grinning in the moonlight.

When they were once again seated in Bucky's sleeping area, Steve dug in his bag and handed over his next gift: a diving knife and sheath. "It's a titanium blade, so it won't rust," he explained, watching as Bucky examined the rubber handle, testing the grip in his webbed hand.

"You thought of everything," Bucky said in wonder.

"Tried to." Steve said as he handed him a small sharpening stone and sheath strap to secure the blade to his waist. "It's small enough to fit in the bag if you prefer."

Bucky shook his head. "Strapped on is better. But I'll tether it to a carabiners as backup." He looked sideways at Steve. "I don't suppose you brought nylon rope, too, did you?" He smiled smugly as Steve winced and shook his head.

"Missed that one. I'll buy you some in the next couple of days. Would a thin chain be better?"

"It will just rust. Besides, rope's more versatile."

"You'll have to tell me what exactly you want. And that's going to be easier than you think," Steve said, unable to keep his excitement out of his voice. "But we'll get to that." He handed Bucky a small notebook and pen. "Waterproof paper and a pen that writes in the rain. Underwater might be a bit much, but you can try it and see."

"We're pen pals now?" Bucky gave him a sidelong glance.

Steve laughed "You get the mail service issue fixed and I'll send you a package every week. I have a larger notebook, too, with something I want to show you later. But you get the idea."

"You want me to write daily to do lists."

Steve cuffed his arm lightly. "Jerk. Keep that up and see if I give you the two things I'm most excited about."

"There's more? Seriously, Steve, you went a bit nuts. These things aren't cheap."

"I've missed you. And since someone willed his estate to me, I happen to have a bit of spare change lying around. Don't worry about it. And don't be mad…."

He got out two satellite phones, each encased in waterproof cases. "I'm not going to be cut off from you again if I can help it," Steve said softly, handing Bucky his phone. "You can use the solar charger on it. We need to test them while I'm here to see if your voice has the same effect over the phone or not. It won't be pleasant if I'm trying to swim a few thousand miles to get to you—"

"Don't even joke about that," Bucky snapped, concern plain on his face as he handled the phone reverently.

"Which is why we'll test it here. But the thing is, even if your voice is a trigger, we can still send emails and texts. Those use less battery power, too. I know typing on the small screens can be a bit of a nuisance. It's not ideal, but at least this way we can be in contact no matter where we are on the globe. If you need me, you can let me know and I can fly down to wherever you're at. You don't have to be alone any more, Buck."

"These are really waterproof?"

Bucky's voice was filed with more emotion than Steve had ever heard before and he put his hand over Bucky's in silent acknowledgment.

"Up to about twenty feet or so. I know it's a gamble. The tech may fail. But I want to try. If I end up getting you a couple of backup units to stash, that's okay. No, they're not cheap, but it's a small price to pay for peace of mind for both of us. I just need to know I can talk to you sometimes. We can spend some time over the next few days getting you up to speed on how to use them. I've set them up, but I haven't had a chance to test them in the field."

"Even if I need you, I won't always be able to tell you where I'm at. Rio had a distinctive landmark."

"They're satellite phones, Buck. They track our positions. And before you worry, I figure anyone bored enough to go looking at the data will assume you're on a boat. Chances are, no one will even go looking. The companies that run these services have too much information to manage to go digging up individual users' data unless they get a warrant from the police."

"If I power I off, it will save the battery," Bucky said, thinking aloud. "If I turn it on once or twice a day, will I still get messages from you?"

Steve nodded. "The only thing you'd miss would be live calls, which we can always schedule ahead of time. These phones do suck down power, so anything you can do to save the battery is a good thing. But I think we can make this work. If daily messages are too frequent, it's okay. I don't want to chain you to technology." Steve wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, refusing to admit he was crying. "I just can't go through the next few months feeling like I did during the last three."

"We'll figure it out," Bucky promised.

Steve nodded, and reached into the duffel bag again.

"More?" Bucky was incredulous.

"This is the last thing, I promise," Steve smiled. "At least until I buy that rope. Oh, I forgot to tell you: the sat phones have internet access, too. You can surf the web and go shopping on Amazon. I've already set up the login, but I also wrote my username and password down in that notebook I gave you. If you discover something you need, put it into the cart and I'll get it to you. We can test it out with the rope and have you find exactly what you want. I'll take my phone with me when I go to the store tomorrow and they'll be able to make sure I get the right thing since I'll be able to show them the picture even though I don't speak Portuguese."

"Steve…" Bucky whispered, putting his arms around him and tucking his head onto his shoulder.

"Love you, too, pal. I'm just glad to have you back."

"When I'm with you, I forget I'm a monster," Bucky whispered sadly.

"We're back to that again? The only monsters are the ones who changed you without your consent. I know you have avoided seeking them out and I understand why. I'd be leery of what else they might do to you, too. But you, Bucky, are not a monster. You're just a guy who swims better than he used to."

Bucky shook his head. "Not even human anymore."

Steve pressed his hand on Bucky's chest. "Yes, you are. You're still the same man inside. They took your legs, not your humanity. Once you understood the effect your voice had on people, you isolated yourself rather than risk harming them. You wouldn't even talk to me, though I know that must have nearly killed you. I know you, Bucky, and you are _not_ a monster. Don't you see how beautiful you are?"

Bucky just gazed at him, wanting to believe but unable to see the truth in Steve's words.

"It's okay. I'll believe it enough for both of us until I convince you I'm right."

That earned him a familiar huff of amusement and disgust.

"Seriously, you're bringing down the mood, and that's not okay, not on Christmas. I have one more thing for you."

"I don't have anything for you."

"You already gave it to me, back in the fall when you let me close enough to know it was really you. You're back from the dead, Buck. There's nothing I can ever do for you that will top that. Now stop arguing and take a look at this," Steve said, shoving a Kindle, protected in a waterproof case, into his hands. "Ever see one of these before?"

Bucky shook his head. "What is it?"

"A library's worth of books. It's called an ereader. I think they were just coming out when you shipped out. The only time it uses power is when you turn the page or use the built-in light. Yes, you can charge it with the solar charger. You can also connect it to the satellite phone and download more books. I can even get you a newspaper subscription if you want. Not everything on Amazon is available in this format, but there's enough that you'll always be able to find something you like."

"You can't afford to keep buying me books, Punk."

"I don't have to. You also have access to the Free Library of Philadelphia. I bought us an annual library card. They let out-of-state residents do that.[1] The log in is all set up on the phone and written down in that book I gave you. They have a ton of electronic books you can load to this device. When the checkout time is up, they just expire and disappear. I figure if you don't have to spend every waking moment hunting for food, I'd better do something so you don't go crazy from boredom. Tell me what you're reading and I'll read them too."

"A book club?" Bucky's eyebrow shot up, amusement plain in his voice.

"Just for us," Steve agreed, nodding. "I do draw the line at Tolkien. Him you can read all by yourself. I bought you the set, so they're already loaded. I'm willing to listen while you read aloud to me, but I'll be enjoying your voice, not the story."

Bucky laughed heartily, pushing the hair out of his eyes again. "You never did like Tolkien. It's one of your biggest flaws."

"No one is perfect." Steve leaned against his friend, broaching the next subject carefully. "I'd go nuts if my hair kept getting in my face like that. Isn't it even worse swimming?"

"In case you haven't noticed, most barbershops cater to people with legs. Until you gave me that knife, I haven't had anything to even try cutting it with." Bucky lay down, pulling Steve with him so Steve lay with his head on Bucky's chest.

"I brought a comb and scissors with me." Steve said softly. "Or I can get you some hair ties and barrettes if you want." His voice was gentle, even teasing. "Maybe we can braid some seaweed in, too. Start a new fashion trend."

"Remember how we used to cut each other's hair, before I joined the navy?" Bucky asked, sending him a memory of Steve perched on a kitchen stool while Bucky gave him a mostly-even haircut.

"The price was right. You were always better at it than I was, though."

"Who's going to criticize your work now? Get your scissors." Bucky slid into the water, motioning for Steve to join him. "I'm not sleeping in clippings," he explained.

"This might get tricky with me trying to tread water while getting it even."

"Stand on my tail," Bucky told him, curling the appendage so Steve could rest his feet on it. Bucky sank lower in the water, almost to his ears, then slowly rose until his shoulders cleared the water even though he was supporting Steve's weight.

"How'd you just do that?"

"I don't know. I just know it works. I guess we can use one of those phones to look up neutral buoyancy in fish and get some ideas." He glanced over his shoulder at Steve. "You going to gawk or get to work?"

"How do you want it?"

"Like we used to do it, but shorter," Bucky smirked at him. "The price is right, but my barber is hard to get to in the winter."

Bucky stayed quiet while Steve worked on the back and sides, adjusting his tail to hold his friend. But when Steve was in front of him, there was a mischievous look in his eyes that was all too familiar. "What?"

Bucky didn't say anything. Instead, he closed his eyes while Steve combed out the long hair covering his forehead.

"You're not fooling me, Buck. What are you planning?"

"I'll tell you when you're finished. You're distracted enough," he said, running his hands along Steve's torso.

"I'm almost done. I wish I had a mirror so you could see."

"Haven't seen myself since I shipped out," Bucky said softly, his eyes still closed.

"You haven't… I'm an idiot," Steve muttered.

"Tell me something we didn't know."

Steve cuffed him lightly. "Behave. I'm getting you a hand mirror tomorrow. You've been judging your looks based on the changes you feel, and that skews your perception. You probably felt the new sharp edges of your teeth and visualized fangs bigger than a _T. rex_ had."

"Doesn't change the facts."

"The _fact_ is, you have no idea how good looking you are because you haven't seen yourself in a mirror. I'm gonna fix that. You're too thin right now, but you haven't changed as much as you think."

"Not that you're biased."

"Of course I'm biased. But I'm also an artist and I can tell you that I'm just itching to draw you. I want to take some pictures tomorrow. People will assume they're fake if they see them, so don't worry about that. But even so, I'll encrypt them on a portable drive and delete them from my phone before I leave. I'm not looking to put you in danger, but I want to draw and paint you when I get home," Steve got out in a rush, trying to convince Bucky to agree.

Bucky ruffled his hair and nodded. "If it means that much to you."

"All done. You want me to leave the scissors here?"

"Leave me the comb. The scissors will just rust. Now get your mask and snorkel. I want to make sure you can breathe while you're low in the water.

Steve looked at him, his brow furrowed for a moment as he tried to think despite so much talking from Bucky. When his clouded brain figured out what Bucky was planning, all he could say was, "Oh," before hastily putting the scissors back in his bag and digging for his snorkel and mask.

"Keep your shirt on so you stay warm. I won't let you go too far under. This okay?"

Steve just put the mask on, placed the snorkel in his mouth, and nodded as Bucky pulled him close and tugged at the waistband of his pants. After a quick kiss on the chin, Bucky's head disappeared under the dark surface. Steve leaned his head back on the rocks behind him and tried to breathe. When he felt Bucky hesitate, concerned he'd gone too far, Steve gave him a thumbs up-trusting Bucky could see his hand in the dark water-before he put his hands in Bucky's hair. He felt Bucky's body rumble with amusement for a moment, and then all rational thought became impossible.

* * *

Much later, Bucky boosted him to the ledge and then hauled himself out beside him. Steve stripped off the two-piece rash guard he'd been wearing and pulled on a pair of woven wool pajamas. He turned out the LED light and lay down beside Bucky, covering them both up with the wool blanket. When he saw Bucky's raised eyebrow, he explained, "I figure I'll get a fungal infection if I wear that all the time and never get dry. The wool will keep me warm and let my skin breathe. But I should probably bake on a deserted beach a bit tomorrow just to be safe. Besides, it will give you a bit of a reprieve from me.

"You're not getting away that easily. You can work on your sunburn all you want. We're gonna take that blanket with us. I'll cover up with it and stay wet while we both bake.

"I will need help putting sunscreen on my back. I bet it will work on you, too."

"One way to find out." Bucky pressed a kiss to the crown of Steve's head as he held him pillowed on his chest. "Thanks for the best Christmas ever."

"Even better than the time we were both sick with that horrible stomach virus and we both managed trips to the store to get comfort food for a gift exchange?"

"Yes, even better than that." Bucky clasped Steve's hand and dredged up the memory to share. He remembered feeling smug for successfully at sneaking out of the apartment on Christmas Eve day. He'd staggered on weak legs to the nearest convenience store for crackers and ginger ale without Steve knowing. The next morning, he'd discovered Steve had done the same thing, only Steve had brought back a fresh loaf of bread for toast, a box of tea bags, and a bunch of bananas. They'd both stumbled to the living room on Christmas morning and exchanged their meager gifts, feeling more loved and cared for than they ever had before.

It was then that Bucky had known with certainty that Steve was his forever love, not just a buddy. Not realizing Steve returned his non-platonic interest, he'd kept that knowledge to himself, resolving to be content with friendship. He'd shipped out for his first tour with the Navy two months later.

When Bucky let the memory fade, Steve lifted his head from Bucky's chest so he could look him in the eye. "We wasted a lot of time, Buck. Part of me wishes I'd known how you felt back then. I wish I'd had the courage to speak up sooner myself. But what happened got us here, so I'm not going to complain. If you hadn't gone overboard, we might have kept on pretending forever. All things considered, I think I'd rather have you for real, even if it has to be in small doses, than live the lie every day that you were only a friend to me."

Bucky hesitated, then nodded. "I love you, Steve. No matter what happens, don't ever forget that."

"And I love you, as you are now and as you were before. I'm going to keep telling you that until you start to believe it. And then I'll keep telling you that just to annoy you. We'll figure this out. I promise."

* * *

[1] This is true. Go to their website and check it out. Library cards are free to residents of Pennsylvania who have a library card for their local library. If you are in another state, you can still access the collection for a modest annual fee. I love that library!


	3. Exploring

I keep getting messages from people about this story and the boys have taken notice. They decided to demand more of my attention lately, so here you have the last of what I had originally written out in draft form. Maybe _now_ they'll leave me alone and not insist on the bigger story I originally conceived? Time will tell.

* * *

After countless dives over a period of hours, Steve pulled the snorkel from his mouth and pushed his mask up off of his face, treading water as he scanned the area around them. "I need a break, Buck. Food and a nap sound mighty appealing about now."

Bucky broke the surface, concern evident in his gaze. "How about over there?" he asked, pointing to a rocky shore that had a small patch of sand. It was sheltered, providing some shade from the blazing sun, and potential cover from the occasional small planes that flew overhead.

"Okay. I don't see any driftwood, though." Steve said as he looked around. "I guess I'll eat a prepackaged meal. You hungry yet?"

Bucky nodded, thinking. "Let me get you settled and I'll see what I can find." He moved in front of Steve, keeping his back to him, then struck out for shore once Steve had a firm grip on his shoulders.

"This kind of reminds me of the old days. You're still taking care of me."

Bucky laughed. "I think the sun is getting to you if anything we've done today reminds you of the past. Get up on the beach before you drown. I'll be back in a bit."

Steve changed out of his rash guard into a long-sleeved Batman T-shirt and Superman pajama pants while Bucky retrieved the water bottles and blanket from where they'd stored them earlier. "Drink up," Bucky ordered as he came close enough to shore to hand Steve the bottles. "You haven't had anything all morning. Rest and I'll see what I can find for us." He gave Steve's outfit a strange look, but didn't comment.

"I don't want a sunburn, okay? You know how fast I burn." Suddenly thirsty, Steve guzzled an entire bottle and crushed it flat so it wouldn't take up room in his snorkeling bag. He put on a pair of sunglasses and sprawled on the sand, using the folded wet blanket as a pillow. "Wake me when you get back," he mumbled, and quickly fell asleep.

When he woke, Bucky was beside him, tugging the blanket out from under his head so he could wrap up his tail. "Wake up, Steve. There's driftwood and a fish for you to cook before nap part two."

Steve grumbled, but got up when Bucky flicked sand on him. "Hey!"

"You get grumpy when you're hungry," Bucky pointed out. "You need more sunscreen, too."

"Nag, nag, nag." The grin he couldn't hide made his feelings clear. As he got the fire going, Steve mulled over the events of the morning. Shortly after dawn, Bucky had taken him to shore so he could get the rope and another case of water for his stash. As promised, Steve had purchased a small hand mirror. Bucky had disappeared for bit after taking it, and when he'd returned, he'd been unusually quiet. Ever since then, he'd been a bit broody and trying to hide it, though more than willing to take Steve exploring as they'd planned.

They'd quickly figured out that Steve could stay down a lot longer if he let Bucky tow him rather than try to follow on his own power. When he needed to breathe, he'd tap Bucky twice on the shoulder, and Bucky would rush him to the surface, swimming just beneath him while Steve caught his breath and indicated with a gesture the next spot he wanted to see up close.

As they swam, Bucky would share memories of past encounters with similar sea creatures. Some were amusing while others told of hours spent filling the boredom between hunting efforts. Steve even learned which fish Bucky found most palatable and which were not worth the effort.

Steve shook his head, pulling himself back to the present. The huge fish was already gutted, courtesy of Bucky's new knife, and it was a simple matter to spear the meat on a stick and roast it over the fire. "Do you want any? This is a huge fish."

"Sure," Bucky mumbled and hauled himself over to where Steve was sitting. "I still can't believe you're here, much less okay with all this."

"You're alive. That's all that matters."

They sat together in the sand, shoulder to shoulder, as they ate the cooked fish with their fingers. Steve sat cross-legged, letting Bucky lean heavily on him as he sat with his tail curved to one side, in a pose reminiscent of the mermaid statue who kept eternal watch over the harbor of Copenhagen.

Bucky nodded, but said nothing, leaving Steve to his thoughts.

* * *

Much later, with a full stomach and feeling delightfully drowsy, Steve lay spooned against Bucky, holding a webbed hand in his own while he studied how it was put together. Bucky's fingers were longer than Steve's now; before they'd been able to swap winter gloves. The webbing only spanned between the knuckles closest to his palm, leaving his fingertips free to move more independently. Bucky's fingernail beds looked human, but the nails quickly narrowed and tapered to a firm, sharp claw that extended just beyond the tip of each digit.

"Stop thinking so loud," Bucky mumbled as he pressed a kiss to Steve's shoulder and tugged him closer, going so far as to drape his tail over Steve's calves."

Bucky's voice chased sleep from his brain. "Then stop being so gorgeous. If I didn't want to draw you any more, then I wouldn't have to memorize how you look lying here with me," Steve teased as he pressed harder against Bucky before rolling over so he faced him. He started pressing kisses to Bucky's throat, running his tongue along the edges of Bucky's gills as he'd done before.

"You're insatiable."

Steve paused, feeling slightly hurt at Bucky's tone and raised his head to look at him. "I'm sorry. I can try to fight it if you want."

"No. It's just…."

"Part of you worries it's the enchantment and not me deciding?"

Bucky looked away, nodding.

Steve took his hand in his own. "You've already seen how I feel about you. What's changed? You've been a bit off all day."

"You never told me my tongue was spotted."

Steve couldn't help it. He sat up and laughed. "Seriously? You're brooding about the color of your tongue? Are you nuts?" Getting up, he kicked sand into the remnants of the fire and double checked that there was no trash he needed to collect before he stripped off his clothes, stuffed them into his snorkeling bag, and pulled his rash suit back on. That done, he tugged the blanket off of Bucky and started to fold it. "Back to the ocean with you, Jerk. Your brain is drying out and overheating."

Bucky sat up and gaped at Steve, who was already putting on his fins and mask.

"I hope you don't expect me to haul your heavy ass off the beach."

"I don't even have an ass anymore!" Bucky snapped.

"Sure you do. It's just scaly in addition to being heavy," Steve called over his shoulder just before he dove into the waves, holding the folded blanket to his chest and acting like he was actually going to leave Bucky there and try to swim back to Rio all by himself.

Steve looked at his wristwatch, wondering just how long Bucky would be able to hold out before swimming out to meet him.

The answer turned out to be twelve seconds, if you only counted how long it took for Bucky to catch up to him and not actually join him. He was swimming on his back far below Steve, glaring up at him with folded arms as Steve made slow progress above him.

He slowed his pace a bit, studying how Bucky moved in the water. Steve estimated he was now closer to seven and a half feet tall, if you measured from the top of his head to the tip of his tail. A good foot of that length was pure tail flukes, shimmering and deceptively delicate looking in the dappled sunlight beneath the waves.

Disgusted by Steve's scrutiny, Bucky flipped over and darted away, though doing so only showed off his aquatic grace and strength. He was able to make sharp turns and even reverse direction without appearing to lose any momentum. For the most part, he kept his hands at his sides, though Steve noticed Bucky used them as aids in tight maneuvers. Even in his anger, Bucky was staying nearby so Steve would stay safe. Steve smiled to himself around the mouth piece to his snorkel. Bucky really hadn't changed much at all.

Fascinated by the show Bucky was putting on, he stopped kicking all together and just watched as Bucky navigated easily through rocky channels and over ragged outcroppings jutting from the sea floor. Fish darted out of Bucky's way, either sensing they were prey or simply frightened by Bucky's rapid movements. Truly, Bucky was in his element here, even though Steve knew he longed to go back to the life he'd once had. Steve just hoped that the satellite phone and electronic reader made this new life more tolerable for his friend.

Or was he a boyfriend? Partner seemed too stilted, lover not inclusive of all of the facets of their relationship, the last two days notwithstanding. Bucky was his Everything, but that was hardly how one referenced another in conversation. Nor could he just call him Bucky, since his few remaining friends knew the name of the former roommate who had died at sea. He felt a pang of sadness knowing that the title didn't really matter. He dared not make any reference to Bucky when he returned home. The risks were too great.

Steve shook off his mood and held out his hands, gesturing "Well?" to Bucky the next time he turned to check on him.

Bucky showed him his middle finger, hampered though the gesture was by the webbing between his digits, and took off again.

Steve laughed, knowing the sound would carry. Something slammed down on him, shoving him under just as he took a breath, then released him to float back to the surface. Undaunted, Steve spit out the snorkel as he twisted around and grabbed Bucky's face between his hands, kissing him as he wrestled with him underwater.

Bucky surged to the surface, angrier than ever. "Don't be stupid!" The water churned around them as he thrashed it with his tail.

Sensing there was more at work here, Steve backed away, his brow furrowed. "What?"

"That's how they changed me, you idiot!"

"You were _drowning_ , Bucky. I'm breathing just fine. Besides, if it happened, I wouldn't mind."

"No."

"I'm not saying it's my first choice. I can help you more the way I am. But if I were shifted, even accidentally, we'd be together."

"I won't risk you like that. Promise me, no kissing under water."

Steve paused, studying Bucky's face. Seeing how important it was to him, he nodded. "For your piece of mind, I promise. On one condition."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "What?"

"You'll think about visiting me at my house."

"You're insane."

"I'm not asking you to promise to visit, just to think about it. I have some ideas for how we could make it work."

"For how long?"

"A weekend is all. I don't want you to feel trapped. It would just be nice to spend time with you up north without freezing my ass off or worrying who's going to find us."

Bucky sighed. "Fine."

"You gonna tell me what this is really all about?"

"What do you mean?"

Steve just stared at him, knowing too well how to use silence to his advantage.

Bucky glared at him, then his shoulders slumped. "I just want to go _home_."

"I'd like that, too., Buck." Steve opened his arms and pulled Bucky close. "We'll figure something out, I promise. I have some other ideas for the long term I've wanted to bounce off you. But for now, can't we just enjoy the day? For right now, at least, this is your home and I've enjoyed seeing it with you. I wish I had more stamina, but I'm feeling better now that I slept and had something to eat."

"How can you be so accepting of all of this?"

"You're my Everything and you're back from the dead. I'll take you on whatever terms that come with that miracle because I love you."

Bucky buried his head on Steve's shoulder. "Can't even cry anymore," he confessed softly.

"I've cried enough in the last five years to last us both a lifetime. Now come on. You promised me a day of exploring, not moping. If you can't manage that, then go fetch my notebooks and pens and I'll draw you while you pout."

"You're not giving up on that, are you?"

"Nope." Steve took Bucky's hand in his own. "See yourself like I do for once," he said, summoning the memory of watching Bucky swim beneath him, graceful and strong as the light caressed his body. Steve was slow, awkward, and downright clumsy in comparison, though he reveled in the vicarious feeling of power and strength as Bucky pulled him through the water, ever patient with his need to surface and breathe after frustratingly short dives. Steve knew he was holding Bucky back, slowing him down, but Bucky never acted like it was a burden.

"Because you're not," Bucky muttered, caught up in the vision Steve shared. He countered with how he saw himself, and it broke Steve's heart.

"No, Buck. That's depression and five years of isolation talking, not how you really are at all," Steve whispered. "Can't you trust me on this?"'

"I'm trying. But when you leave…"

"We'll find a way. It's going to get easier from here on out. Like I said, I have some ideas. It's going to take some time, but we'll find a way to make this better. I can't go without seeing you again until spring, either. It's like you always used to say to me, 'One day at a time, 'til the end of the line.' We're nowhere near the end yet."

Buck just closed his eyes and nodded wearily.

"Let's go back to your place for now. I'll let you read Tolkien to me."

"You and your one track mind."

"Want to see how many chapters I can suffer through before I cave?"

"Only if we pick something I know you like or else you'll cave immediately just on principle." Bucky said, a corner of his mouth turning up. "Asimov?"

"J.K. Rowling."

"Who?"

Steve's jaw dropped, realizing Bucky has missed the entire Harry Potter craze. "Okay, we need to get back to the cave right now and get the books ordered today. She's still writing the series, but the first five are out. You are going to love them." Steve shuddered in delight as he imagined Bucky's voice bringing the story to life. "It may kill me, but I'd like nothing more than to hear you read everything she's published so far. Move it, pal," he ordered, wrapping his arm around Bucky's neck as he passed him the blanket he still held. "Hogwarts is waiting!"

"Hog who?"

"Just shut up and swim," Steve said, putting the mask over his face before he shoved the snorkel in his mouth. Just to be obnoxious, he even slapped Bucky on the flank like he would a horse and laughed when Bucky glared over his shoulder before taking off at full speed.

* * *

Steve sat against the cave wall with Bucky's tail fluke in his lap. He fingered it idly as Bucky lay on his back, reading aloud. The LED light was off to conserve power, but Steve could see well enough to study Bucky's fluke in fascination. It reminded Steve of fancy goldfish he'd seen in pet stores. The tissues were so thin in spots they were translucent and there were too many folds for his tail to lay completely flat no matter how carefully he spread it out on his lap.

"Developing a fetish?" Bucky asked dryly as he laid the e-reader down on his chest and watched Steve with amusement.

"I might be. I guess you'll have to keep reading and we'll find out."

Part way into chapter two, Steve was no longer able to concentrate as Bucky's voice flowed over him. At first, he'd been able to resist the lure of Bucky's voice just by being in contact with him, but that was no longer enough. He slid out from under him and started exploring Bucky's tail with his mouth, nibbling and kissing him as he went. Eventually, Bucky jumped in surprise at Steve's boldness with his tongue and nearly dropped the e-reader.

"Keep going. You're just getting to the part where Harry discovers he can talk to snakes." Steve mumbled, struggling to form a coherent sentence.

"I don't really think you're paying as much attention as you want me to believe."

Steve let out a low laugh. "I'm very focused."

"I'm very itchy. I'll be right back." Bucky said, setting the tablet aside and rolling into the water as soon as Steve moved back.

In a minute, Bucky returned, dripping wet and looking no more comfortable as he hauled himself up and lay down once more.

"Where are you itching?"

"Fluke." Bucky gritted out, hating to even name the new parts of his altered body.

"Shit. I wasn't thinking." Steve switched out of seduction mode almost instantly. "Come on, take me to shore. I know what to do." Seeing Bucky's furrowed brow, he sighed. "Are you more interested in the explanation or the cure? Personally, I'd rather fix it first and talk about it later."

"How do you…" Bucky looked away and left the question fade away unfinished.

"I had a lot of time to read and think after you left. I know you hate your new body, but I wanted to understand how it all worked," Steve explained, securing his wallet in a plastic bag before putting it in the bag on his waist and taking several deep breaths to collect himself and shake off the lure of Bucky's voice. "Let's go."

"You going to be okay going up on shore? My voice…"

"It still affects me strongly, believe me," Steve said, his voice husky and barely hiding a chuckle. "But I think I'm getting better at managing it. Maybe spending so much time with you has helped. Besides, the worst that happens is I can't leave the water until you take care of me," Steve added, grinning wickedly. "Now stop stalling."

* * *

An hour later, Bucky lay stretched out on his bed in a food coma, courtesy of Steve's stop at a local fish market, while Steve smeared generous portions of petroleum jelly over his tail. Steve was paying special attention to his fluke where he'd spent so much time touching his friend. Two large containers of the stuff were now in residence in what Steve was calling Bucky's first aid cabinet. Also present in a newly acquired plastic box were tubes of antibiotic ointment, a container of betadine, a dozen single use tubes of super glue, tweezers, beeswax, dental floss, and several sewing needles. The metal tools had been rubbed down with oil and were housed in a waterproof case along with several packets of silica to absorb moisture. Steve had promised to replace them on every visit so rust wouldn't be a concern. For now, though, Steve was keeping it simple and using plain petroleum jelly on Bucky's tail.

"Is this helping?"

"Actually, yes." Bucky left his eyes covered with his arm. He sighed, apparently resigning himself to the coming conversation. "How'd you know?"

"Well, you've said before you have problems if your skin dries out," Steve answered, hedging a bit.

"And?"

"I realized I'd probably rubbed off the mucus layer."

"Mucus. Layer." Bucky shifted his arm and raised his head to glare at Steve. "Are you saying I'm not slimy enough?"

Steve smiled without even pausing in his task or meeting Bucky's gaze. "It's not slime, it's mucus. And if you come spend a weekend at my house, we'll watch the movie that makes the difference clear. We'll watch the Harry Potter movies, too. They're good. Really good. Just wait until you see them play Quiddich."

"Quiddich?"

"It's sort of a hybrid between hockey and soccer, I suppose, but played on flying broomsticks," Steve explained as he took extra care to completely coat Bucky's fluke with a thin layer of the ointment."

"You're changing the subject."

"Not really. You asked, I answered. That reminded me of _The Princess and the Frog_ , which I really do think you'd enjoy. I'm not the one with issues talking about my body or making plans for the future." He paused and looked Bucky in the eye. "I get why you're angry. I think I'd be angry, too if it had happened to me. I'm resentful and angry that you were taken from me. I'd like to hurt the ones who did that to you. You've had five years of being alone and cut off from everything you knew before and knowing we were all still going about our lives without you. I've had five years of thinking you were dead and grieving for lost opportunities. For me, having you back is a miracle. I'm grateful and curious and so in love with you I can't see straight. So yeah, I did some reading and tried to figure stuff out. Be glad I did, because otherwise my carelessness might have left you vulnerable to an infection if we hadn't done something about it. I'll be more careful in the future. And I'll make sure to keep you well stocked just to be safe. If you haven't noticed, I kinda like having my hands on you. And by that, I mean all of you."

"No, I hadn't noticed that," Bucky muttered with an eye roll. "Never seen you this touch starved before. Probably more of the side effects."

Steve shook his head at that suggestion and put the lid back on the container, finally finishing his task. "Aren't you touch starved after being alone so long?" he asked as he stretched out beside Bucky and put his head on his chest while letting his free hand wander, idly stroking Bucky's torso.

"I killed people trying to talk to them. What does that tell you?"

"From what you showed me, you hadn't figured out what was happening exactly. But I'm sure you were lonely. I've been miserable. That's one reason I'm here and not some swanky hotel. I'd much rather be here with you than alone somewhere else." Steve twisted around and left a trail of kisses along Bucky's jaw, wanting to comfort Bucky as much as he wanted to slake his own insatiable appetite.

Bucky just squeezed him tighter but didn't say anything more. Steve wondered if he'd lured a few people into contact after he'd understood the power of his voice. It would help explain Bucky's self-loathing. If he was honest with himself, he could easily imagine Bucky indulging in a frantic tryst in shallow waters, then leaving his victim while he disappeared beneath the waves. Sated, the victims would theoretically be free of the enchantment. And what would they say once they staggered to shore? Any sane person would write the experience off as a bad drug trip or a hallucination.

As awful is it sounded, Steve found he couldn't judge. Bucky was a victim, too, and humans were deeply social creatures. If anything, it was a miracle that Bucky was still sane. He decided to let that part of Bucky's past remain undisturbed. Some things were better left in the past. "Can I ask you something?"

"You're just now developing a sense of boundaries?" Bucky huffed, not really mad. "What is it?"

"Why don't you sleep under water? You won't drown. Surely it would be more comfortable than lying on bare rocks."

"Not a problem anymore, thanks to you." Bucky said considering, then held out his hand. Steve clasped it and let Bucky's memories flood his brain.

"For the record, I think it's really cool you can do this," Steve murmured as he closed his eyes. He felt a flash of amusement and affection flow through the bond before the feelings changed. He was alone and vulnerable. Ever leery of pursuit by the merfolk who had tried to capture him, he tried to find a sheltered place to sleep where no human, merfolk, or predator would sneak up on him. At times, he slept on the sea bottom out of sheer exhaustion, but he dozed fitfully and never truly rested. Sleeping with his mouth open, which allowed water to flow over his gills, still felt unnatural. Who knew what he'd swallow in the process? At least when he swam in the daylight, he was in control of what passed his lips.

He'd found a sheltered area on a rocky shore one night and hauled himself up in the cover of darkness. Almost immediately, he fell into a deep, restful slumber, confident that no danger would approach without his knowledge. He'd learned that out of the water, he could close the gills and keep them from drying out. It also allowed him to talk. The next morning, though, he'd wakened in agony as the sun peered over the horizon. His tail had dried out in the night and he was bloodied from moving against the rocks as he slept. It had been a painful lesson that gave him new purpose. He spent several weeks exploring until he found a cave that would meet his needs for shelter and access despite the changing tides. Once that problem had been solved, he'd experimented with different ways of keeping his tail wet, finally settling on a layer of seaweed that he was careful to saturate every night, usually by using his tail to send a wave of water over his crude bed. Protected from the sun and wind, it stayed damp throughout the night and allowed him to finally achieve true rest. Having a place to call his own made him feel more settled somehow, and he began to slowly search for items to make the location his.

Unfortunately, driven by constant hunger, he'd had precious little time to spend on that endeavor. His twice annual migration for warmer waters and sufficient food further consumed his time. Finding a few books lost on the beach had been cause for great celebration, though the pages got moldy and often stuck together, not that he had time to read.

Bucky pulled his hand away, breaking the connection and returning Steve to the present. His face was turned away, but Steve caught his chin and turned his face so he could look him in the eye. "It's going to be better from now on, Buck. You'll see. The worst is behind you. Even if the phone dies, you know I'll be waiting for you and looking for you. I may go half mad with worry, but I won't give up until I find you. We'll figure it out. I'm even thinking about buying myself a boat."

"You? Buy a boat?" Bucky snorted in disbelief and amusement. "Are you going to park it at a dock or learn to sail it, too?"

"Sail it, of course. I've heard of stranger things, haven't you?" Steve teased gently.

Bucky just rolled his eyes and hugged him tightly. "You hate the ocean and you're thinking of buying a boat."

"People change. The ocean is growing on me. Having my own personal lifeguard and tour guide helps, too."

"I guess."

Steve buried his face in Bucky's neck, pressing a kiss against his gills. "I wouldn't choose this life for you, Buck. But it's what you've got." Taking Bucky's hand in his own, Steve tried to open the connection while he thought back to when he'd learned Bucky had been lost at sea. As he remembered getting the news, he shoved the memory, along with all of the grief and despair in Bucky's direction. Shocked, Bucky stiffened, then sent back a single wave of his own anguish.

"Keep it coming, Buck. Let me cry for both of us," Steve murmured. Tears rolled down Steve's cheeks and he held his friend more tightly. "Don't hold back." Steve sobbed freely as the emotions flowed between them. In the end, it was a catharsis for them both.

* * *

"I don't want to go home," Steve murmured when he finally woke. Emotionally spent, they had both dozed off.

"Yeah, look what you'll be giving up," Bucky said, half-jokingly as he gestured at the cave.

"I would, you know. If the alternative were never seeing you again, I'd choose this in an instant."

"I know." They lay there a long time before Bucky added softly, "But I want you to have a real life, not an existence."

"It would be easier if I got to see you more often."

Bucky sighed at that. "Show me what you planned."

Steve lifted his head, looking Bucky in the eye.

"I may have been gone five years, but I haven't forgotten what you get like when you get an idea in your head, Steve." He paused, running his fingers though Steve's hair. "It might be a bad idea, immersing myself in a life I lost..."

"It doesn't have to be lost, though, just different. We can still watch a baseball game. Or are you hooked on soccer now that you like to hang out in Brazil?"

"Get the damn book out and show me what you came up with. Otherwise, I'm never going to hear the end of this."

Grinning a bit at his victory, Steve climbed over Bucky and retrieved the larger notebook and lamp. They lay on their stomachs, shoulder to shoulder, as Steve showed off the plans he'd come up with for converting his deck into an aquatic guest room. "How deep should the pool be? Five feet? More?"

"This is going to cost a fortune." Bucky frowned as he examined the page.

"Making it deeper isn't going to change the final price tag by much. Right now, I want to know what you want. We can prioritize features once I get an estimate of what this will cost to build." Steve looked at the page again. The rectangular pool was twelve feet by fifteen feet, leaving a three-foot-wide border on all four sides of his planned addition.

His original idea of converting his den was abandoned the first day he'd walked around the space and considered how small the room really was. Bucky needed room to move around so he didn't feel claustrophobic. No pool could compare to the ocean, but Steve wanted to avoid him feeling like a betta in a teacup.

"What's this?" Bucky asked, pointing to a dotted line that ran across the short end.

"A zero entry wheelchair ramp. I really don't want to have to carry you from the beach all the way home. With wheels, my whole downstairs will be available to you."

"Dripping water the whole way. That will do wonders for your floors, pal. And this?"

"A shallow ledge. I was thinking we can weave a canvas mesh hooked to a pvc pipe frame so we can sleep together without me drowning or you drying out."

"That actually might work. Okay, I'm impressed. What else you got?"

Steve pointed to a square block on one end. "We need to figure out a toilet of sorts, which is going to require some creativity. And we're definitely putting a heater in."

"Exactly how to do plan on pitching all this to the construction crew?" Bucky smirked, his eye brow raised.

Steve felt his face grow hot. "I was going to play up the eccentric artist angle and my newfound passion for saltwater fish. I've been doing a lot more painting and some of the images are selling well." He sat up and gestured wildly. "This is really my new studio so I can swim with the fish I'm going to stock and use as inspiration for my new series of paintings. I need to commune with nature for inspiration." He flopped back down dramatically, looking up at Bucky with hopeful eyes.

"There are enough stereotypes out there that I'm afraid you'll actually be believed. It's rather terrifying if you think about it."

Steve scowled, slipping once more into crazy artist mode. "You fear my genius?" He smiled then grew serious. "Actually, there's a new fad out there for saltwater swimming as therapy. That's actually the angle I'll probably use if anyone asks, though I may mention stocking some fish if I get questions about the extensive aeration system."

Bucky laughed heartily, "I fear for your reputation." He grew sober and added, "One last question. What do we do if I'm discovered? I'll be trapped with no way out. Even if I manage to escape, you'll be followed, monitored. And that means I'll never see you again."

"You forget we have a secret weapon: your voice. If anyone does find you at my house, you can make sure they're unable to leave. That will give us a chance to knock them unconscious while we slip away. I can help you more from land, but if we're caught, it's best that I go with you. Still, if you think about it, the chances of it happening are slim. It's an acceptable risk to me, and probably less dangerous for you than hanging out at the beach all the time."

He could see Bucky was warming to the idea and mainly worrying about mundane logistics. He wanted to push, to insist on an answer. But he held his tongue. This had to be Bucky's choice. Steve closed the book and set it aside, rolling on to his back as he did so. He pulled Bucky down to him so his head was lying on Steve's shoulder. "Just think about it. Nothing has to be decided right now. And if your answer is no, it's all right."

"Get an estimate. If it can be done without you needing to borrow more than half the fee or wiping out your savings, go ahead."

Steve froze, not sure he'd heard correctly. "You mean it?"

"If those paintings are selling like you say, I don't have to worry so much about you footing the bill." He squeezed Steve tighter. "Putting in a bigger bathtub would be a lot easier."

Steve shook his head. "We're doing it right or not at all. Once I get that boat, I can sell the house and stay with you. I've been picking up more illustration work, too, and I can do that from anywhere."

"Slow down. You're already selling the house before you built the addition."

"I want to plan long term. Seeing you for a few days every Christmas isn't going to make up for only seeing you half a year." As he said that, he felt tension leave Bucky's body. Tension he hadn't noticed until it was gone. He turned Bucky's chin so they were eye to eye. "You didn't think…"

Bucky shrugged. "I know it would be tempting."

"No, it wouldn't. You staying the winter at my place would be house arrest at best."

"You'd be there, though."

"Not during the day. I lifeguard at the Y during the winter. It's not much, but it's reliable pay while I pick up more art work. Plus, I've been taking classes and trying to broaden my skill set. I pretty much work and sleep these days. I wouldn't be much company." Buck laid his head back on Steve's chest and Steve continued, "How could you think I'd even consider—"

"Because part of me wants that," he admitted softly. "I've missed you so much."

"Would you rather I skip the remodel and just focus on getting the boat?"

He felt Bucky shake his head. "We need both. It's going to take time to save enough for a wheelchair accessible boat. I just wish I could help. But even if I scavenge from shipwrecks, how can you explain getting possession of what you're selling?"

"I'll research that if you want. But like you said, we have time. We're in this to the end of the line. So what if it takes a few years? We'll figure it out."

"I'm actually starting to believe that."

* * *

A/N Yes, I'm playing fast and loose with the dates of release of the Harry Potter books vs. _The Princess and the Frog_. In an alternate universe where mermen are real, I figure the release dates were different, too.


End file.
